Aliens: Survivor
by J.P. Clark
Summary: After contact with a Weyland-Yutani mining outpost on the desert planet of LV-2021 is lost, the USCMC sends in marines to find survivors and eliminate the threat. But what horrors and secrets await them underground?
1. Chapter 1: Operations

Chapter 1 – Operations 

            The emergency lights seemed to be the only system still working in the facility. Their ominous red glow barely illuminated the corridor as his boots clicked against the metal grated floor. He ran at a panic, his arms flailing about in the thick clouds of steam and smoke being poured out of the pipes running along the walls. The sirens also wailed, giving their warning of the situation that he was already too frighteningly aware of.

                "Containment fields compromised," the artificial voice rang out over the sirens, "Specimens detected in bio-labs 21-45, living compartments 8-21, command centers 5-9, loading bays 22-30."

                He ran as fast as his human legs would take him, but he knew it wouldn't be fast enough. They would find him and kill him. Even worse, they would make him a host for their damned group, making even more of them. Was he the only one left? He didn't have time to think about that, all he could do was run. He tripped over something, smashing into the ground. Reaching his hand up, he felt the blood rushing from his skull. He screamed, backing over the body of one of the security guards. Johnson was it? He was prick, and perhaps he deserved what those bastards did to him. He didn't have time to stop and stare at what remained of Johnson's torso, he had to run.

                Rounding a corner he found himself staring at the door that led to loading bay 35, one of the few that weren't occupied by them. He entered his code onto the computer pad, his nervous fingers making it all the more difficult. The door opened and he walked inside. Was he safe? It seemed so. There was no sign of them in there. He could just sit there and wait out his death. Sitting down next to one of the crates in the room, he cried for the first time since he could remember. They were coming for him, he knew it, but when would they find him?

                "Warning," the artificial computer voice blared again, "Specimens detected in loading bay 35."

                His spine froze as the creature's unmistakable hissing filled his ears. He cringed his shoulders as he slowly tilted his head back to look up. It was a drone, a large one, it's drool falling down onto his glasses. He felt the tears running down his face grow thicker and when he brought his hand up, he felt more blood coming from his forehead. The creature howled, it's inner mouth jutting outwards and into his forehead, tearing into his brain tissue. The drone lowered itself to the floor almost gracefully and began feeding on the dead human's body.

                "Warning!" the computer continued, "Complete contamination eminent, all personnel evacuate at levels 3-22."

                * * *

                The darkness of space was something that was easy for one to get lost in. It was limitless, infinite. Was man really supposed to conquer space? Was it within his finite existence to reach the edges of the limitless?

                Sighing, USCMC 1st Lieutenant Charles "Chaz" Rockwell ran his fingers through his thick brown hair. He was onboard the United Systems Military vessel, Lockwood traveling in the deepest part of space explored by humans, the Omega Quadrant. Named Omega because man had never successfully established a colony anywhere outside the ring of planets. It was widely believed that the planets outside the Omega Quadrant were the home systems of the Xenomorphs, so extra care was to be taken by anything journeying to the unknown regions of space.

                They had been fighting the war against the Xenomorphs, more commonly known as the 'Aliens' for nearly a thousand years. Chaz's father was in the USCMC as was his grandfather. Both had met their deaths on the inside of a Xenomorph hive. Chaz remembered the day the news arrived about his father. By the time the messengers had arrived at his small farm in what remained of the Midwestern United States, his father was more than likely already dead from the infestation. He remembered his mother crying on her knees, damning all the gods in the skies for killing her husband and his father. He took an oath that day, he would never allow that to happen to him. He would die of his own hand before he helped create another damned drone for an Alien hive somewhere out in the remoteness of space.

                "Yo, Chaz!" a familiar voice broke through the silence of his thoughts. It was Jeremy Blunt, another faceless soldier in the Corp and probably the only person on the ship that would constantly harass Chaz when he wanted to be alone. Jeremy walked up to where Chaz stood by the port window and tapped him on the shoulder, "Come on, buddy, the sarge wants you and me loading the equipment for the drop."

                "Sure," Chaz turned away and began following Jeremy down the corridors of the Lockwood to the hangar bay.

                "Man you need to stop just disappearing or the sarge is going to blow you out the airlock," Blunt joked, slapping Chaz across the shoulders.

                Blunt was relatively smaller than Chaz, and most of the other marines for that matter, but he never let that bother him. He was 'the' outstanding personality in their platoon and he knew it. Chaz looked at himself as the polar opposite of Jeremy. Where he just wanted to be left alone, Jeremy wanted all the attention.

                The cargo bay door slid open in front of them and they entered the hangar. The other marines from the platoon were already assembled and they were getting their gear stowed away on the APC. Chaz was already dressed in his battle fatigues and slid his body armor over his chest while Jeremy began inspecting his automatic weapon.

                "I just love this thing," Jeremy joked, "Had it twenty straight drops without a single jam or misfire."

                "You shouldn't talk about it," Chaz replied, placing a clip in his weapon and loading it before adding two more to his pouches on his belt, "Or it's gonna happen when you're smack dab right in the middle of a Xenomorph hive."

                "Man, you shouldn't joke about a thing like that," Jeremy shook his head, lacing up his combat boots.

                A sly grin crossed Chaz's face. The prepping was the best part of the mission for him. He pulled a combat shotgun from the storage container along with a box of rounds. He loaded the shotgun and a chest harness, wrapping it over his right shoulder. Having all the weapons of the Corp at his fingertips made him feel invincible against the Aliens. He rechecked his sidearm to make sure it was loaded and added an extra clip to his belt. His sidearm was his last resort, his ultimate weapon. He would always have that with him, it was the final shot. He would take the last bullet from his gun before he allowed himself to be taken by them.

                The cargo doors opened once again and the leader of their platoon walked in. Staff Sergeant  Donald Kinneas. He was what Chaz liked to refer to as a career gun. He had joined the USCMC at the age of nineteen and had since modeled his life around the Corp's rules of discipline and conduct. He had a number of hostile encounters with the Xenomorphs along with other missions deemed too covert to be made public knowledge. Chaz knew this because he had a friend in a tech division back at Marine Quadrant HQ tap into the personnel files shortly before their departure for the current mission.

                It was odd, but Chaz had never really been interested in Kinneas before the mission in question. It bothered him because there was little briefing on the mission before their departure, only general orders. They were to proceed to planet LV-2021 in the Omega Quadrant and await further orders there. Usually command handed down the specifics before the mission went underway. Why his team had been selected was what bothered Chaz about it. Could it have something to do with Kinneas' black op past?

                "Commander on deck!" the platoon leader, Miller, chimed up as Kinneas watched his men gather. He had grayed eyes from exposure to toxic substances on a planet that was infested as a Xenomorph home planet. The substance supposedly burned his iris and retinas, making his vision blurred. Chaz believed otherwise.

                "All right, listen up," Kinneas began, "As of 0800 hours, we've come into orbit around LV-2021. Our orders are as follows.  Two months ago, the Weyland-Yutani corporation lost contact with it's mining facility on the planet's northern continent. We're being sent to recover the facility from a possible infestation and rescue survivors."

                "Damned bugs go it?" one of the marines piped up, "What the hell are they doing building that place on a bug planet anyway?"

                "It's not our problem," Kinneas shrugged off the question.

                "Sir," Chaz spoke up, "Permission to ask a question."

                "Granted."

                "Sir, why are we doing this?" Chaz voiced one of his many concerns about the op, "Our platoon is still green with the replacements. They're not ready to fight a bug infestation."

                "That, also is not our problem," Kinneas avoided the subject, "Our orders are not negotiable. Rockwell, you and Blunt are the only ones on this platoon that have come into contact with the Xenomorphs aside from combat training against synths. I expect you two to provide the leadership you a responsible with. Am I understood?"

                "Sir, yes, sir," Chaz and Jeremy replied.

                "Good. Now, if there are no further questions, prepare to drop in twenty minutes. Dismissed!"

                * * *

                The dropship began to rumble as the final clamps were released from the Lockwood's holding systems. Chaz closed his eyes and tried to envision the departure system. Sitting locked into the holding brackets of the APC was a nauseating experience for all the marines in the Corp with little exception. The best way to deal with it was to keep your eyes closed so as to not realize how much danger you're actually in. There was always the possibility that the holding system would malfunction or the hull would deteriorate in the atmosphere above the planet. Not so common as it was when his grandfather was in the Corp, the incident was a rare occurrence with the use of new alloys, but it was still a threat.

                "Hold onto something, pukes!" Drake, the female pilot of the dropship chimed in over the announced system, "Twenty seconds to atmosphere. It's gonna get real hot in here soon."

                The ship started to shake more violently as Chaz ticked off the seconds with a methodical tapping of his boot. Aside from Jeremy, he was the only experienced member of the team going to the surface. Their company was comprised of around fifty specialists. They weren't called soldiers anymore, since the Corp now trained its men to do a wide variety of tasks such as maintenance, repair, engineering, and computer tasks. Chaz himself was fluent in computer access and hacking and basic repair. Still, he liked to refer to himself and his squad mates as soldiers. Out of the fifty soldiers, twenty were heading to the surface in two APCs carried by two separate dropships.

                The heat started to increase in the APC as the ship made impact with the planet's atmosphere. Nearly one hundred degrees in the inside of the ship, Chaz was starting to feel the heat, making his stomach start to churn and twist. His brow got instantly sweaty, but he didn't bother with it. The best way to make a drop less painful was to focus on something else. Chaz chose the Aliens. He could see them in his mind dancing about in their satanic fashion. He was also there with his gun firing at them and watching their bodies explode, the highly acidic blood spraying on the walls and surfaces.

                As the heat started to wear off, Chaz opened his eyes. Two of the new recruits had passed out from the force exerted onto the ship from the drop and the marine next to him had puked on his gear. Jeremy seemed fine, sitting with his eyes still closed. Jeremy had been given command of the ten marines in their APC for the mission while Kinneas and Miller were in the second APC. Kinneas' team was heading for the southern landing field outside the complex's perimeter to investigate energy readings picked up before the drop. Chaz and Jeremy's team was to land in the central landing field just west of the complex and travel overland in the APC to the facility to try and establish contact with the numerous outposts littered across the landscape. Any survivors were to be evacuated to a predetermined landing zone twenty kilometers north of the facility in the barren wasteland. Atmospheric makeup of the planet was similar to the deserts of Earth, similar to the Midwest where Chaz grew up. He smiled, thinking about how he would be in his element.

                "What's so funny, bud?" Jeremy asked.

                "Nothing," Chaz shook his head slightly, "Just anxious I guess."

                "Well we'll probably get that anxiety out of you in no time," Jeremy laughed, "All right, marines, listen up. When we hit the dustoff, it's twenty minutes overland to the facility. Harper, Jessup, you take  Alpha team to the security control on Deck 3 and get the power back on. Rockwell and I will take Bravo to the command center on Deck 1 to get in touch with Sarge's team, understood?"

                "Sir, yes, sir!" the squad echoed.

                "Good," Jeremy put his helmet on and brought him comm-link up, "Drake, ready for dustoff!"

                "Dustoff in five, four, three, two, one!" Drake radioed back.

                There was more violent jerking followed by the sounds of the APC engine roaring. They were on the ground and moving. Chaz unfastened himself from his harness and opened one of the viewing holes. It was daytime on the planet, though the sun appeared to be setting. If there was an infestation in the facility, they would have to move fast before the Xenomorphs awoke for their nightly hunting. Two months? There was no way anyone could survive for two months in an infested facility. They were better off to take their chances in the desert.

                Twenty minutes passed quickly and the APC came to a stop outside the facility's perimeter. Given the harsh nature of the planet's surface. The facility was built as a giant in-ground swimming pool. The upper surface levels were about one hundred square miles of living facilities and observation pods. Built to house nearly three thousand people, the top level was impressive in a of itself. But the true magnificence of the facility laid underground. A series of elevators could easily transport the workers and staff down nearly two hundred yards to the working center of the facility where the mining and operations happened. Overall, the facility was like a giant starship built underground. It was entirely self sufficient with enough tunnels and corridors that made it ripe for Xenomorph infestation. The outer mining facilities were connected by a complex tunnel network made of a tram system that ran over most of the northern continent. One of their jobs was too secure a section of the tunnel to allow safe passage for Kinneas' team.

                The entrance to the facility reminded Chaz of a prison back on Earth. Big metal doors were surrounded by barbwire and two guard stations flanked the doorway entrance. Two large sentry guns manned the towers, their systems offline.

                "Pretty high security for a mining facility," Jeremy wiped the sweat from his brow.

                "Sure is," Chaz loaded his weapon, "Let's get this done and get out of here."

                "Right on, bud," Jeremy nodded.

                A small plastic explosive was used on the door to blow the automatic locking systems open. With the power down, it was impossible to open the doors or even run a bypass. Six of the ten marines pried the doors open while the other four kept lookout for any hostiles. It was standard SOP. The big metal doors opened to reveal a dark corridor that led down into the first level of the facility.

                "All right," Jeremy turned on his shoulder lamp, "This corridor supposedly leads to an elevator shaft that'll take us down into the facility. Alpha, go ahead and take the elevator. Deck 1 is Bravo's. Fan out and report any movement on the motion trackers."

                Chaz watched as the marines entered the bunker. It worried him, watching the sun setting. They had maybe two hours before dusk. Then the aliens would come out for the evening. He would have to bypass a console somewhere and determine how long nightfall was on the planet. Alpha was beginning to disappear into the darkness before Jeremy ordered his team ahead. Chaz followed near the rear to keep a check on their six. Since the facility was completely underground, the Xenomorphs might have changed their hunting patterns. That was the scariest thought of all.

                Alpha entered the elevator and the metal gates closed behind them. One of the new recruits started hacking into the doors that led to Deck 1. Since the emergency lights and the elevator worked, it was safe to assume that the power systems were not completely off, but running in hibernation mode. Hibernation mode was the fail-safe system built into all the W-Y facilities to allow rescue teams into the facility in case of an emergency.

                The door finally popped open and Jeremy motioned for the marines to enter into the passage. Chaz again took the rear, his motion tracker covering their soft six. Jeremy led the way, his rifle slung on his right arm while he read the motion tracker and held his AP pistol in his left hand. The rythmatic thump of the motion tracker and their heels clicking on the metal walkway were the only sounds. It was perfect for an attack, their nerves were at their ends.

                "I don't like this," one of the new soldiers broke the silence as they made their way down the corridor, "It's too freaky."

                "Keep your cool," Chaz warned him, "All infestations are like this, just stay frosty."

                "The command center is about two more sections down," Jeremy reattached the motion tracker to his belt and unslung his rifle, "There's just ghost signs ahead of us. Rockwell, anything behind?"

                "Nothing," Chaz watched the sonar beep out again, "This place is dead."

                "Keep your guard up," Jeremy called back as they approached a door, "Someone on it!"

                One of the marines stepped forward as the others took defensive positions on the sides of the corridor. Chaz let the new marines handle the defense, they could use the experience, while he continued to monitor the motion tracker.

                "Bravo leader," Jeremy's headset rang, "This is Alpha leader. Over."

                "Alpha, go ahead, over," Jeremy squatted down and held onto his radio to try and clear up the static transmission.

                "We've arrived on Deck 3. Power's out, but we're proceeding ahead as scheduled. Estimated time to power up is ten minutes. Over."

                "Roger that," Jeremy replied, "Bravo out."

                The radio went silent behind Chaz as he continued to eye the tracker. They were only of limited use in the first place. He remembered his first time on assignment when his squad was attacked by Xenomorphs. The trackers suddenly lit up with twenty or so signals all within the thirty foot arc the tracker provided. It was a jungle planet so the beasts came swarming out of nowhere, devouring his squadmates and taking others back for incubation. Chaz shuddered at the thought, remembering how he survived by being tossed into a nearby river by one of the aliens. It was a harrowing ordeal.

                "Got it!" the marine hacking the door's panel announced. He removed the hacking computer and closed the panel before pushing the button.

                The marines readied their weapons as the door slid upwards very slowly, its gears obviously damaged. Chaz held his weapon outstretched in his right hand as his eyes slowly peered down to the motion tracker. The sonar blipped, followed by a sudden echoing blip.

                "Movement!" Chaz shouted.

                Rounds echoed into the darkness of the corridor as the marines fired. Some screamed, some paniced and fired wildly. The eerie silence was replaced with the hail of gunfire as Jeremy fought to regain control of his team.

                "Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" Blunt yelled as the marines slowly lowered their weapons. They were all breathing heavily and rightfully so, "Rockwell! What the hell was that, man?"

                "Sorry," Chaz rechecked his motion tracker, "The signal's gone."

                "It's okay," Jeremy patted him on the shoulder, "You can never be too sure with these damn things."

                Two marines stepped forward into the corridor, tossing a pair of flares ahead of them. The purple illumination revealed a human body lying in the middle of the corridor. Blood was soaked on the ground and the walls around it.

                "Sir!" one of the marines called Jeremy.

                Jeremy and Chaz went ahead, scoping out the body. It was lying on its stomach with one of the hands outstretched and the other crumpled at an odd angle over the back, obviously broken. Jeremy slowly poked it with the toe of his boot as one of the new recruits turned his head and started puking. Chaz eyed him suspisciously. It was obviously the first time he had seen a corpse mutilated.

                "This is odd," Jeremy knelt down, removing his helmet, "The body looks gutted in the stomach, but everything else looks intact."

                "Xenomorphs?" Chaz knelt down beside him.

                "I don't know," he rolled the body over revealing a large gash across its sternum, "See, these gashes are cutting right along the rib cage. Aliens aren't that methodical."

                "I'm liking this even less," Chaz stood up, "Let's get to the command center and get our business done before those things show up. We probably got about an hour and half until night."

                "What happens at night?" one of the marines asked.

                "You start dieing," Chaz responded with a cold chill in his voice.


	2. Chapter 2: Ambushed

Chapter 2 – Ambushed 

                Silence, they had said, was the ultimate killer. The total suspense of not knowing what is lurking where a person's sight cannot reach was more deadly than the thrashing claws of an Alien or the sheer firepower a marine could bear on its targets. Of course, Chaz never trusted what 'they' had always said. Carrying his rifle in his left hand with his motion tracker in his right, he wasn't afraid of anything. The heat of the facility mirrored the desert atmosphere outside. They would have to get the cooling tanks working if they were going to be in the facility for any amount of time. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he continued to monitor the motion tracker's systematic pulses.

                They had changed formation since coming across the mutilated corpse. Chaz held the front with Lance, one of the new marines and the replacement weapons expert. Lance walked a small distance out in front of Chaz while brandishing his 60mm smartgun. The smartguns were very reliable weapons to the marines. Though Chaz preferred the mobility of his pulse rifle, the smartgunners were very important assets to any marine platoon. The 60mm rounds could easily penetrate the hide of a drone Xenomorph and tear through the armor plating of a Praetorian, the scaled guardians of a bug hive.

                "The command center is through this door," Jeremy pointed out as they came upon the large metal door. 'Command Center 1' was scrawled across the top of the door, indicating they were finally at their destination.

                Chaz ran his hand over the door, popping a flare and holding it close to the metal housing.

                "What's wrong?" Lance asked, turning on his shoulder lamp to give Chaz more sight.

                "This place was attacked," Chaz whispered, running his hand over the groves running along the door. They were Xenomorph claws, he was sure of it. The beasts had made it to the command center. Perhaps the workers had put up a resistance inside. If so, the command center's equipment would probably be smashed, shot, or fused together by Xenomorph blood.

                "Form up!" Jeremy made his way to the front, "Motion trackers?"

                "Can't read through the bulkhead," Chaz backed away from the door, dropping the flare and checking to make sure his rifle was fully loaded. Lance and two other marines took up covering positions while a fourth opened his hacking device and pried the console panel off.

                "Give me two minutes," the marine started running the bypass software.

                "Make it one and half," Jeremy ordered.

                Chaz turned to their backside, kneeling down to cover their six. The motion tracker was still reading negative, but that could change at any moment with the Xenomorphs. More flares were popped and tossed down the corridor to illuminate the corridor behind them. They had shut the bulkhead behind them, and Chaz wondered if it was a good idea or not to leave it unsealed. Of course sealing it would keep the aliens out in case of an attack, but it would keep them in also. Sealing the doors was a favorite way to create a defense against the Xenomorphs by civilians and panicked marines. The doors were not the main thoroughfare for the Xenomorphs, but the airducts and ventilation shafts of a complex. Realizing this, Chaz popped his second of his four remaining flares and tossed it into the ceiling's ventilation shaft. The sudden light illuminated more of the corridor, making for almost decent visibility.

                "Almost there," the marine drew his pistol as the bypass was almost completed, "Done!"

                The doors slowly started to open and Chaz felt his heart stop. Shoulder lamps clicked on and guns were locked and pointed into the darkness. It was the moment of truth, Chaz had felt it before. Right before stumbling into a group of waiting aliens, a person's heart skipped a beat and all their senses heightened. Doctors attributed the sensation to increased adrenaline levels, but the soldiers in the field knew different. It was the feeling of death coming to take them to hell in the hands of the Xenomorphs.

                "Stand down!" Jeremy shouted suddenly as the room was revealed to them, "It's empty."

                All the marines let out a sigh of relief, but Chaz still felt uneasy. He checked his watch; only an hour and fifteen minutes remained before sundown. The marines started to secure the command center, sweeping across the rooms and checking for any signs of intrusion. Chaz and Jeremy headed up the stairwell in the center to the observation deck. Lance followed behind them but stopped before Jeremy and Chaz boarded the elevator heading up.

                "Keep this area secure, soldier," Jeremy ordered, "Check for infiltration zones in the vents and ducts and seal them immediately. And see if you can get someone to get the power relays up."

                "Sir, yes, sir!" Lance saluted and then disappeared back down onto the base floor.

                "This elevator should take us to the command bunker on the surface," Jeremy opened the panel and pressed the red button calling the elevator, "It's pretty secure from infestation. No vents or anything. Only way in is the elevator. Just hope whoever was here last didn't destroy it."

                A moment passed and the yellow light on the panel beeped. The doors opened, the outer door retracting upwards while the inner retracted to Chaz's right. Jeremy was about to take a step onto the elevator when he jumped backwards and yelped. Chaz raised his weapon and flicked on his shoulder lamp. Lying in the floor of the elevator was two halves of the same person. He was ripped at the torso, slightly above the waistline and his intestines and organs were lying in between the two halves covered in a pool of blood.

                "Dear God," Jeremy puked.

                "Damn it," Chaz leaned his head in and looked up. The lamp on his shoulder barely illuminating the top of the shaft. They were in the elevator, which meant that they had made it to the command bunker. He slowly backed against the far wall of the shaft and continued to monitor the ceiling, "Let's go."

                Jeremy wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his BDU and stepped into the elevator. He slung his rifle and pulled the shotgun from Chaz's back.

                "What are you doing?" Chaz asked, hitting the button to make the elevator go back up.

                "The bunker isn't that big," Jeremy loaded the shotgun with shells from his own ammo belt, "If there's a bug up there, then it's gonna be a CQB. This will give us better odds of hitting it."

                "Yeah and spraying more acid blood on us," Chaz felt the rumbling as the elevator started heading into the darkness above them. He popped another flare, leaving him with only two remaining, and dropped it on the floor to keep the shaft somewhat illuminated. The elevator came slowly to a stop at the bunker and the yellow light above the door went off. He gulped as the doors began to retract.

                Jeremy loaded a shell into the gun and flipped on his shoulder lamp. The bunker was dark, obviously without power. Its window panels were shut, keeping the natural light out also. The beam from the shoulder lamp panned over the small bunker until it reached the back corner where something caught Chaz's eye.

                "Wait, look," he whispered, tapping Jeremy on the shoulder and pointing to where the beam was. It was hard to see, but in the light the unmistakeable reflection off of a Xenomorph's drool was present, "Pan up."

                Jeremy panned the lamp upwards to reveal what they both feared the most. A Xenomorph was resting on the ceiling, suspended upside down from one of the large air conditioning units connected to the outside. It was a drone, it's slimy black scales reflecting their sadistic nature in the light from the lamp. Chaz brought his weapon up as Jeremy froze in his place. Chaz took careful aim at the creature's frontal lobe of its oblong head, hoping for a quick and easy kill.

                Suddenly, there was a rustling inside the room and the Xenomorph raised its massive head up, spotting the two marines standing in the elevator shaft. It let out a blood-curling scream and leaped out towards them. Jeremy yelled, falling backwards as Chaz squeezed the trigger. The 7.62mm rounds tore through the alien's body, ripping it up and spraying the toxic green go across the bunker. The monster collapsed on the ground and Chaz continued to fire, making sure the beast was dead. Once he was sure it wasn't getting back up, he turned and helped Jeremy to his feet.

                "You all right?" Chaz asked.

                "Yeah," Jeremy choked out between breaths, his heart racing at nearly twice its normal rate. He was breathing heavily as Chaz walked forward, checking the alien to make sure it was dead.

                "Bravo leader!" the radio on Jeremy's helmet echoed, it was Lance downstairs, "What's going on? We heard gunshots, over."

                "Situation normal," Jeremy, still trying to catch his breath, brought the comm set up to his mouth, "We encountered a bug, but evrything's fine. Repeat, everything normal, over."

                "A bug? Hell!"

                "Just get the damn power on, marine!" Jeremy ordered, regaining his composure, "Bravo out."

                Chaz sat down at the console and tried rebooting the data systems on the computers. With any luck, they would be able to get power on and the security systems up before the sun set. That would hopefully by them some more time to hook up with Kinneas in the tunnel network. After a moment, the computer system light came back on and the screen flickered to life.

                "What are you doing?" Jeremy asked, backing slowly away from the corpse of the alien on the floor.

                "I'm trying to get the computers online to open the vents and give us some light," Chaz brought up the bunker's command system. He hit the lighting key and the bunker came to life as the rotary gears started to retract the blinds.

                The light from outside flooded in, illuminating the bunker and giving them a more accurate assessment of the damage. There were gunshots and burn marks all along the walls of the bunker. Blood was everywhere and a number of the machines were destroyed. Chaz turned around and took an assessment of the situation with Jeremy.

                "What the hell?" Jeremy whispered, "There's no bodies."

                "Probably took them back to the hive," Chaz returned to the console.

                "No, there should at least be a few, some mutilated or something," Jeremy took his helmet off and wiped his brow again, "This is getting too scary."

                "Just stay cool, Blunt," Chaz started typing again, searching through the database to see if there was any way to bring up the power or get contact with the other marines in the complex, "Look at this."

                Jeremy leaned over Chaz's shoulder and started looking at the monitor. The computer had a complete layout of the facility on hand and Chaz brought up the section they were in.

                "We're here," he pointed to the bunker that was topside, "And this is where Alpha is," he brought up a diagram of the central power core for the station, "Seems the systems were manually shutdown from here. Which means the only way to get power back is to cold reboot down in the core. Alpha team should be there in ten minutes and it'll take us at least thirty to double back."

                "How about radio?" Jeremy asked.

                "Negative, the core is shielded from interference, which means to let them know where the power station is, we have to get down there."

                "Damn it," Jeremy slammed the table, "This isn't getting any easier."

                "It's worse," Chaz again brought up the plans, "According to the latest layout, the tunnel network is corroded. It's possible that the hive is located somewhere around here," he pointed to a section of the facility that was close to where Alpha would be passing by.

                "Shit!" Jeremy grabbed his helmet, "Let's go!"

                Chaz grabbed his rifle and jumped over the alien corpse. It seemed strange to him, the Alien seemed more like it was hiding in the bunker rather than waiting. What could it be hiding from? Chaz found himself staring at the alien corpse intently as the doors to the elevator closed. Jeremy was on the radio trying to get in contact with Alpha team, but it was as useless as Chaz had said.

                Why would a Xenomorph be hiding from humans? It did seem surprised when it spotted them. Was there something else that had scared it into taking shelter in the isolated bunker. When the elevator came to a rest at the bottom of the shaft, the other marines were both anxious and relieved to see them come out safely.

                "Sir, we can't get power back online from here," Lance reported, "I…"

                "Cram it," Jeremy tossed his helmet aside, "Piece of crap. All right, listen up! Alpha's in a lot of trouble. We think the hive is down near the power core. We need to be on the hop to get down there and get them out before they walk right into the nest, understood?"

                "Sir, yes, sir!" the marines echoed as the took up their arms and made for the doors. Chaz followed in the back again, pulling out his motion tracker. He could see it in the marines' eyes when Jeremy broke the news to them. They were scared shitless.

                * * *

                "Trackers?" Harper asked.

                "Nothing, sir," the marine in lead reported.

                "Silent," the marine in the rear echoed.

                Alpha had made its way down into the center of the complex and was now heading for the core to try and see if they could restart the systems. So far, it was just eerie silence since they left the false comfort of the elevator behind them. Bodies had been encountered, but none were identifiable. The aliens had definitely infested the security deck which scarred all of them.

                "Any luck raising Blunt?" Harper asked Jessup who was carrying the radio.

                "Nothing, sir," Jessup replied, knocking at his headset, "Radio's been dead since we entered this secure area."

                "Sir!" one of the marines near the front called, "I think you better have a look at this."

                Harper took his helmet off and kneeled down next to the marine. A large hole was carved into the corner of the floor. Though it was large enough for a man to pass through, it wasn't made by any tools. The edges were jagged and steam was rising off the sides. There was no doubt it was freshly carved.

                "It's a bug hole," Harper stood up, "Form up marines, things might get hot!"

                As if on cue, the screeching roar of the Xenomorphs could be heard through the hole.

                "Movement!" the marine at the front of the squad yelled, bringing his weapon up.

                "How many?" Harper grabbed the tracker from the marine.

                "Too many to count, sir!" the marine cried, "Shit, we're gonna die!"

                "Stay frosty marines!" Harper loaded his weapon, pulling a flare and tossing it down the corridor ahead of them, revealing nothing.

                "Behind us now!" another marine shouted, "I got ten maybe more signals at forty feet!"

                "Targets closing!"

                "Oh shit!"

                "Defensive circle, get your weapons ready!" Harper ordered as the marines panicked, "Stay frosty! Keep your eyes open!"

                "Damn it!" one of the marines shouted.

                "Twenty feet and closing!"

                "We should be seeing them!" another shouted.

                "What the hell?"

                "Ten feet!"

                "The ceiling!" Harper shouted, "The ceiling!"

                He raised his gun up and started firing. The others followed suit as the whole ceiling seemed to explode in a fury of gunshots and acid blood. Grates burst as the Aliens dropped from the ceiling, their massive bodies looming over the group. Shouts and gunfire could be heard as they swarmed the marines. Harper shot an HE grenade into a group of them, sending body parts everywhere in the aftermath of the explosion.

                He spun around to see the marine next to him suddenly have his head torn from his neck as the alien lashed out with its giant claws. Harper brought his weapon up and fired, the acidic blood spraying on his face. He backed over a marine while screaming in pain. The marine shrugged him off only to be knocked backwards by an alien. There were too many of them. They were all gonna die. A flamethrower erupted within the group and several aliens screeched in pain as their bodies burned.

                "Shit!"

                "Medic!"

                "Jones is dead!"

                "We gotta get out of here!"

                The screams could be heard as Harper tried to fight, but the corrosion on his cheek had eaten into his mouth. He could no longer scream, but grabbed a nearby weapon and brought it up to bear on an alien just as it was about to leap at him.

                * * *

                "On the double marines!" Jeremy shouted as the sounds of gunfire erupted outside the elevator door. When the doors opened to reveal the security level, the marines took off in a rush towards the sound of gunfire.

                Screams echoed through the hallways as they came to a sealed door. Alpha had sealed themselves in. It was clear the sounds were coming from inside the door. A marine started torching the seals with his welding tool as Chaz loaded his weapon with a fresh clip. Jeremy tossed his helmet aside, as it would do little good against the Xenomorph's claws and the others prepared for battle. Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door followed by more high pitched screaming.

                "Help us!" it was some of Alpha team banging on the door, "Get us out of here!"

                "Faster!" Jeremy ordered to the marine.

                "I'm going as fast as it can!" he yelled back.

                More screams and the banging on the door stopped. Chaz could feel his heart racing as the marine pulled his torch back and hit the control panel. The door retracted back just as the gunshots and screaming stopped. Everyone froze as the half of the door welded open retracted to reveal absolute carnage. Bodies of marines and the Xenomorphs were littered everywhere on the ground in the corridor. Holes from bullets and acid littered the corridor. Marines puked as they entered the grisly scene, their hearts skipping every other beat as they spread out searching for any other Xenomorphs. The marines that were banging on the door were dead, their skulls smashed and their bodies tossed against the sides of the walls. Another had its arms ripped off and his chest crushed. A trio of Xenomorph corpses burned at the far side of the body heap, a dead marine lying with them.

                "It's a massacre," Jeremy shook his head, "If only we were faster."

                "It's all right," Chaz patted him on the shoulder, "There was no way we could have known."

                "Sir!" one of the marines spoke up, "We got a live one, looks like Harper."

                Jeremy and Chaz walked over to where the marines knelt over Harper's wounded body. It was a sickening sight. His entire left half of his face was melted with their blood and his BDU was drenched in his own blood. The armor on his chest appeared to be cracked and his right arm was broken near the elbow.

                "Harper, Christ," Jeremy knelt down, "What the hell happened?"

                "A…ambu…ambushed," Harper choked out, his body in obvious pain.

                "It's okay," Jeremy took ripped a clean part of Harper's BDU off his pant leg and wiped his brow, "Let's get him out of here. Any other survivors?"

                "Negative," the marines reported.

                "Fall back to the elevator in pairs," Jeremy ordered, "Weapons armed," he turned to the two marines next to Harper, "You two help him."


End file.
